With the Caffe Frascati Book Signing Event now five days away, I've started to wonder whether one can only bully oneself so far. There is this tiny, whiny voice that continues to protest my every attempt to relax about the event.
In truth, many of the patrons who will be there that night may only be interested in a handsome, well brewed cup of coffee, some private time with a laptop, or a quiet chat with likewise friends. They may simply ignore me.
Wait. In my determination to befriend the microphone, in advance, am I insisting that every mental glance I take in the direction of that evening depict a cozy, relaxed opportunity to practice before an entirely indifferent crowd?
Yep. Apparently so. But no worries. It's probably just a hedge against worrying about far scarier things. What, for instance, if they actually pay attention to me. Oops! Now that little voice is beginning to scream.
Such have been the yo yo machination of my besieged intentions ever since I asked ... yes, I asked, to read aloud at the cafe. I am now well past thinking, "What was I thinking ‽‽‽" Actually, it sounded like a good idea at the time.
I am hoping to work this all out in the next few days, (I sort of have to), and I will post whatever I discover. At this point, I can best serve my befuddled brain and jangled nerves by giving them both a bit of a rest.
As they say in the trade: to be continued...
In truth, many of the patrons who will be there that night may only be interested in a handsome, well brewed cup of coffee, some private time with a laptop, or a quiet chat with likewise friends. They may simply ignore me.
Wait. In my determination to befriend the microphone, in advance, am I insisting that every mental glance I take in the direction of that evening depict a cozy, relaxed opportunity to practice before an entirely indifferent crowd?
Yep. Apparently so. But no worries. It's probably just a hedge against worrying about far scarier things. What, for instance, if they actually pay attention to me. Oops! Now that little voice is beginning to scream.
Such have been the yo yo machination of my besieged intentions ever since I asked ... yes, I asked, to read aloud at the cafe. I am now well past thinking, "What was I thinking ‽‽‽" Actually, it sounded like a good idea at the time.
I am hoping to work this all out in the next few days, (I sort of have to), and I will post whatever I discover. At this point, I can best serve my befuddled brain and jangled nerves by giving them both a bit of a rest.
As they say in the trade: to be continued...
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